Assurances
by SqutternutBosh
Summary: That's the beauty of time travel, Jack, I can have visited your future, in my past, and you won't know until you get there." Post Exit Wounds, and Gray isn't quite done with the Torchwood team. Will Ianto and Gwen survive?
1. Chapter 1

Jack watched them through the glass wall of his office. Gwen and Ianto; his team. What was left of his team anyway. Jack found it strangely ironic that the two who had found their own way into Torchwood Three should survive an event that the pair he had personally recruited had not. Ianto had been working for him for two years now and Gwen about eighteen months. So much had happened, so much had changed.

Today was the five year anniversary of Tosh joining Jack's Torchwood team. Jack fondly remembered her wide eyes and joyous near-disbelief in what she discovered upon entering the Hub for the first time. Five years, Jack had promised the young computer genius, five years and her record would be wiped clean of the crime she had committed out of love for her mother. A clean record would mean nothing to Toshiko now, from where she was buried in a Cardiff cemetery. At least Jack had ensured that her mother knew where to visit, knew that she had died saving the people and city she loved.

He idly wondered whether Toshiko would have stayed on after her initial five years. Of course she would have, he decided, there was no quitting this job and despite everything- Mary and Tommy, cannibals and Captain John, Tosh had loved the job. That Jack knew for certain, as he also knew that Owen would never have been happy working anywhere else.

He folded his arms across his chest pensively, the periwinkle sleeves pulling tighter against his biceps, fitting to their shape. He watched as Ianto wound his way through the Hub, dodging the familiar pitfalls, tutting to himself as he picked up discarded litter. His job extended far beyond the realms of maintenance and general support now, but he continued to tidy as a second nature. Sure, he would complain about it, moan that the other two should help more, but his own innate need to keep the place tidy suppressed him from making any form of rebellion in keeping the base a mess.

Jack saw as Ianto walked past Gwen and they exchanged a few words, a smile and Ianto deposited a multi-coloured striped coffee mug in front of Gwen on her desk. He straightened a pile of paperwork and was off again, over to work on some computer mainframe updates. Jack's eyes focused on Gwen as she worked tirelessly, scanning computer databases and typing up reports. She was so focused that she would repeatedly attempt to blow a curtain of her dark hair out of her eyes, rather than lift a finger from the clattering keyboard to brush it away. Her vain struggle to see out of her left eye again brought a small smile to Jack's face.

Casting an eye back over to his desk, Jack headed for the door of his office, wanting to join the other two. He was expecting a phone call from a UNIT high-up within a number of minutes as the UNIT officer wished to discuss a recent finding with Jack. Keeping an eye on the phone, Jack hovered in his doorway, before relaxing against the doorframe, one knee bent so that the tip of his booted toe rested against the cool floor. Gwen noticed Jack shuffling about out of the corner of her eye and her typing sped up for a few seconds, before she stopped at the end of a sentence, hitting the full stop button with a flourish.

'Aren't you expecting a phone call?' she asked turning to Jack.

'Any second now,' he replied. 'I hate having to work to UNITs' time frame.'

'I guess you can't be the boss of everyone, Jack,' Gwen smiled, spinning side-to-side in her chair.

Jack pondered the idea for a moment.

'I don't think I'd like that so much, too stressful… Bad enough trying to get just you and Ianto to listen to me.'

Almost at the mention of his name, Ianto appeared up the stairs, hands slid into his black trouser pockets. He was wearing a deep blue shirt today, a colour that complimented his eyes.

'How're those computer updates going, Ianto?' Jack inquired of the younger man.

'Time of my life,' Ianto answered drolly. 'Just looking for that stack of old paperwork that needs sorting and filing, there's some information in there I need for the updates… Have you seen it?'

'No, sorry.'

'Maybe I filed it away somewhere already- unless one of you two has been using it as a coaster.'

'That was one time, Ianto!'

'Yes, well we now have a set of very important, official, _top secret_ documents with a rather impressive coffee stain on them. I say rather impressive, because if you squint when you look at it, it looks a bit like Elvis.'

The shrill sound of the Rift alert suddenly tore through the relative quite of the Hub, causing Gwen to jump up to face her computer again and take the latest reading. Myfanwy screeched indignantly overhead- the sound had woken her up from a pleasant sleep.

'Rift spike in Queen Street, looks like something came through,' Gwen read off the screen.

'Any signs of life?' Jack asked, leaning over her shoulder closer to the screen.

'Nothing we recognize as a life sign. Probably just a bit of space junk, but we should probably go collect it as soon as we can, it seems to have materialised in the car park in the Capitol centre. Don't want anybody else finding it, could be dangerous.'

'Brilliant. Start of Thursday night shopping and the Rift spits out space junk in the middle of a shopping centre,' Ianto said, slipping his hands out of his pockets.

'Look on the bright side, Ianto- window shopping on the job!' Gwen told him with some cheer, thinking of the expensive dress she'd seen in the window of Karen Millen last time she had walked past. 'I guess you'll be staying behind, Jack?'

Jack glanced briefly at his watch, the polished face catching the light off Gwen's computer screen and reflecting it back and nodded in answer to her to question.

'That phone call should be coming through any second now…' he muttered, straightening up. 'But I can trust you two to take care of the situation.'

'You know you can, Jack,' Gwen said, already on her feet. Ianto nodded his agreement with her as they both headed to the cog door on their way to the SUV.

'I'll keep the comms open if you need me,' he told them.

'Right,' Gwen called back as the door rolled open. 'We'll see you in a bit then.'

As the cog door grumbled shut behind them, leaving Jack alone in the humming Hub, the phone in his office rang out. Once again irritated by a repetitive ringing, Myfanwy shrieked impatiently.

'I feel your pain,' Jack shouted up at her, strolling back into his office. 'I hate it when UNIT ring me, too.'

…*…

Gwen dodged throngs of people laden with a multitude of shopping and carrier bags as she entered the shopping centre, pausing to let a harassed looking woman with a screaming toddler in a pushchair past. The woman didn't even meet her eye in thanks.

'Why is it,' she started to ask Ianto, 'that every time you go somewhere busy, _everybody _else seems to be going the other way?'

'I think they call it sods law,' Ianto replied, discreetly tapping away at the PDA in his palm. He stepped to the side to avoid a gaggle of over-excited (and, by the looks of them, drunk) teenagers without even looking up, shifting his shoulders and jostling the small equipment backpack that was hanging off one of them.

Following just behind her younger colleague, Gwen passed Karen Millen, she stared longingly back over her shoulder at the deep purple dress with the loaded price tag. A girl could dream…

'Based on the readings, I've narrowed it down to either the second or third floor of the car park,' Ianto told her, finally looking up where he was going, lowering the hand bearing the PDA to his side. 'Hopefully no ones found it or messed around with it.'

'Yeah,' Gwen agreed as Ianto led them into a cold, concrete corridor, headed towards a set of winding stairs. 'Couldn't we have just parked the SUV in here somewhere, save us the trouble of walking up all these stairs?'

'Gwen, the SUV is parked down that side street for a reason.'

'You want someone to attempt to break the bullet-proof glass and nick all the shiny gadgets off the dash?'

Ianto smiled slightly. 'No. It's parked there because, unlike Jack, I'm not a show-off. I don't want people gathering around here because they found a massive black Range Rover with the words Torchwood written all over it.'

'It's in yellow on the roof,' Gwen added unnecessarily.

'I have noticed.'

'Who's bright idea was that anyway? Getting Torchwood written all over the place.'

'Jack's, I should imagine.'

Gwen made a noise in agreement, her footsteps echoing up against the thick brick walls, her Converse slapping against the grey steps. She swung out on the blue-painted banister at the corner, propelling herself up the next flight of stairs. A balding man in an untidy suit dashed past, taking the stairs two at a time. Gwen could hear two female voices floating up above them as they also made their way down towards the sodium lights of the wet tiled streets of Cardiff city centre. It was lucky that whatever had come through the Rift did not seem to be living; otherwise the busy, central location would have given them quite a situation to deal with.

A few seconds later they hit a landing with a large plastic two stuck against the drab walls. The overhead light flickered inconsistently, casting juddering shadows of Gwen and Ianto against the floor.

'Somewhere in the centre here,' Ianto said, holding the door open for Gwen to pass through first. They walked across a white-tiled balcony area, looking down and out over a few clothes shops and customers, past the yellow ticket machines and out again into the semi-dark and damp where hundreds of cars were parked. A red Volvo rolled by, the male driver twisting side-to-side looking for an empty space, the reverberating sound of his engine magnified by the close walls and low ceilings.

Weaving amongst the glittering wet bonnets of the silent cars, Gwen headed to the centre of the car park structure, cutting out diagonally to avoid getting clipped by a reversing car.

'We might have to break through one of these doors,' Gwen noted, gesturing to the chipped red door set in the wall. Thick wires ran overhead. 'What do you reckon they're for?'

'Storage maybe, there's a valet service on the floor below,' Ianto suggested. 'Or maybe it houses some electronics for the building, judging by those wires.'

Gwen wrapped a hand around the cold bronze door knob and gave it a tug. The door rattled in its frame, but didn't open. She tried a different approach, resting her right shoulder against the door and leaning into it with all her weight, her right hand still twisting the handle. Again, nothing happened.

'It was worth a shot,' Gwen said briefly as she fished her lock-picking device out of her jacket pocket. A few quick flicks of the wrist later and the door was open, revealing a darkened corridor. Noticing a panel of rusty light switches, Gwen reached out and flipped them all, the artificial lights blinking brightly into existence, displaying walls lined with fat wires, some housed in mesh, all of varying colours.

'Electrics it is then,' Ianto said as he stepped in after Gwen, closing the door behind them. He didn't want any unsuspecting civilians wandering in, or any angry staff for that matter.

His PDA let out a small blip, alerting them that they were getting closer to the object as the Rift readings had increased. Gwen wound her way down the corridor, absent-mindedly trailing her fingers along the lengths of wire as if they were what was leading her to what she wanted to find- a yellow brick road for the digital age.

Ianto had the PDA out again. 'Nearly there, nearly there… Must be on this floor after all.'

'Good, I might have time to head down to Karen Millen before it shuts then.'

'Gwen you talked about that dress for a good part of the journey here and it sounds like, as much as you would love it, you're not willing to part with the money to actually _buy _it.'

'I can look, can't I?'

'I'd say no, but I know you still would.'

'Honestly, Ianto, you're worse than Rhys.'

'He's probably learnt to suffer in silence.'

'Hey! Compromise is a very important part of a healthy marriage.'

'And what do you compromise for Rhys?'

'I let him drag me down to play on that Xbox-thing in Game.'

'That does sound like a healthy marriage.'

Gwen grinned at Ianto, enjoying their banter. Keeping a sense of humour was vital in their line of work, if they tried to take everything too seriously, even the little scavenging jobs like this, then their heads might explode with the pressure. Gwen entertained this mental image for a moment, indulging her subconscious slightly as the mental picture of herself wore the Karen Millen dress. Understandably, it got a bit messy and Gwen shook her head of the gruesome thought; Torchwood had made her a bit more impervious to graphic violence.

They rounded a curve in the narrow corridor and were faced with another door. Ianto opened it with a click and it swung open on its creaking hinges.

'Through here and-,' he started, but was interrupted by the sudden echoing sounds of slightly off-key singing. It was Gwen's phone and it was playing the Harwood's radio jingle. Gwen had warned Rhys against messing with her phone settings, but clearly, her husband had ignored her.

Ianto raised his eyebrows at the song as Gwen fished in her pocket to find the vibrating phone and get it to shut up. Rhys' name flashed up on the screen. With an aggravated sigh, she flung it up to her ear and answered.

'I told you not to mess with my phone, Rhys!' she said through gritted teeth, skipping the usual greetings.

'You don't like my little joke then?' Rhys' laughing tones came through the tinny speaker. 'Sorry, love, just messing about- and it's good advertising, I reckon.'

Gwen rolled her eyes. 'Doesn't matter. Look, did you actually want something? I'm a bit busy right now.'

'Ah right, where are you?'

'Capitol centre, Queen Street. Why does it matter?'

'What's an alien doing in town?!' Rhys exclaimed.

'Keep your voice down Rhys!' Gwen hissed, acutely aware that Ianto could hear every word being exchanged in the otherwise silence. 'There's no alien, just- Never mind, I'll tell you later.'

'S'alright, I'm only in the car, no one'll hear me talking about your top secret business. Anyway, I was just ringing to ask if there was anything you wanted from the supermarket, I'm on my way to get the ingredients for tea. Spag bol a la Rhys!' he announced the last statement proudly and Gwen caught Ianto smirking. She turned her back to him.

'No, no, I don't need anything. I'll try and be back by seven okay? I've got to go, Rhys, see you later.'

'Aye then. Bye love!'

Gwen hung up before Rhys could add any second thoughts to his farewell. She loved Rhys, she really did, but he had some very inconvenient timing. She switched her phone on to silent and turned to face Ianto, who stared back at her with a perfectly straight face.

'Through here then is it?' she asked, walking briskly past Ianto through the open door.

'Is that ringtone another of your compromises?' he said as he followed after her, closing the door behind them as the space they had entered was tight.

But Gwen didn't answer his sarcasm. She was staring transfixed at a small metal cube that sat on the ground mere inches from her feet.

Ianto recognised it instantly. The relatively inconspicuous silver cube with the inlaid LED screen, glowing red digits maliciously ticking down each passing second.

It was, quite clearly, a bomb. A very familiar bomb.

One of Captain John Hart's bombs.


	2. Chapter 2

Ianto reacted almost instantly, slinging the equipment bag off his shoulder and onto the floor. Gwen blinked herself out of her momentary stupor as the shifting scarlet numbers ticked fluidly from 3:22 to 3:21, less than a metre away from where she stood, and kept counting down the seconds. This was no time for freezing or panicking, she thought to herself, she was a police officer; she'd had some training for situations like this. But she was also more than your average on-the-beat cop. She was Torchwood.

Ianto was on his knees, crouched awkwardly as he rummaged through the bag, clearly trying to find something.

'I've seen one of these before,' he told Gwen, briefly glancing up at her. 'At that old building the day…' He trailed off for a second, his search slowing and Gwen knew exactly what day he was referring to. Then he was speaking again, face carefully blank. 'John planted them. Something tells me he has something to do with this too.'

Ianto stood as he pulled something out of the bag, before dropping it to take hold of the object he had removed with two hands. It was Owen's singularity scalpel.

'You think that's really going to help?' Gwen asked. 'I know it saved my life, and Martha's, but don't you think it might be a bit dangerous to be testing it out on a bomb?'

3:00… 2:59… 2:58…

Ianto was twiddling the knobs on the side of the alien tech, a static grey image of the bomb flickered up on the elongated screen. He looked from the display to Gwen.

'Do you have a better idea?'

Gwen didn't have anything to say to that, though her mind was racing with possibilities.

'There's no time to try and take it a safe distance from here and the movement may cause it to explode early,' Ianto was talking quickly as he pressed further buttons. What looked like the internal mechanisms of the explosive glowed on the screen, a tangle of dull white lines. 'If I can just try and vaporise whatever causes it to detonate… But I've never seen anything like it…'

Placing a hand on her ear, Gwen tried to activate her comm. She was met with the uncomfortable crackling sounds of static prickling her ear drum and no hope of reaching Jack back at the Hub. Would he know what was going on?

2:36… 2:35… 2:34…

'Comms are down, I can't get through to Jack,' she informed Ianto who was frowning at the screen. Sweat was starting to bead and collect on his furrowed brow.

'John,' he said simply. He turned to Gwen with a peculiar small smile on his face. 'You should've let me kill him when I had the chance.'

'If we ever see him again after this you'll be fighting me to get to him,' she replied in agreement to Ianto's dark statement, then let out a frustrated sigh. 'I don't understand John though, after all he went through to help Jack… Are we sure he's behind this?'

'Who else could it be?'

Again, Gwen didn't have an answer; unless the Rift was chucking futuristic, pre-detonated bombs at them now. It seemed to targeted and coincidental for that though.

'Aha,' Ianto let out a triumphant sound of approval.

'Do you know what you're doing with that thing?'

2:01… 2:00… 1:59

'Think I've got it, I _think_. Look, you better run, hit the fire alarms, get as many people out as possible in case this all goes wrong.'

'Ianto-,' she started.

'No, Gwen, I've got it, almost completely sure. But not enough to put lives at risk- start getting people out of here.'

'I can't leave you here.'

Ianto gave her a pained look, still holding the singularity scalpel aimed steadily at the bomb.

'I'll be fine. Just get everybody out of here, be on the safe side.'

'What about Ja-,'

'Now, Gwen!' he shouted suddenly across her. 'Please,' he added.

1:36… 1:35… 1:34…

Gwen gently rested a hand on Ianto's forearm, meeting his determined gaze. Then, she gave him a quick understanding nod and took off at a sprint down the corridor they had just amiably walked up, heart pounding overtime, pushing bursts of adrenalin around her body in preparation.

1:22… 1:21… 1:20…

Gwen hit the first fire alarm she came to on the balcony over the shopping concourse, shattering the glass viciously with her elbow. It splintered and fell to the ground at her feet, shards crunching as she kicked them aside, the sound enveloped by the cacophonous shrieks of the fire alarm. A part of her worried that the alarm would not be taken seriously, that the management, unable to find any sign of a fire, would instead dismiss it as a hoax played by a couple of kids messing around. She contemplated trying to create some sort of small fire for justifications sake.

Down below, shoppers looked around in confusion, most continuing on their way. Alarms and sirens were always ringing in shops, usually for a couple of seconds without any impact to their own lives. A few of the more inexperienced shop assistants glanced amongst themselves, offering reassuring smiles to customers, shying away from any queries as the alarm continued to blare out from every speaker. Most customers had not heard a shop alarm continue ringing so persistently.

Suddenly, a voice came over the tannoy system, the male voice struggling to make himself heard over the incessant siren.

'We ask all shoppers to please evacuate the premises. This is not a drill. All shoppers please _calmly_ evacuate the premises. All staff report to assigned fire assembly points. I repeat, this is not a drill, please don't hesitate to evacuate the premises.'

Gwen tumbled down the stairs at speed, only just managing to stay on her two feet. She was glad that the centre had decided not to risk blaming the alarm on yobs messing about, but still worried that some would remain behind to investigate the cause. They would already have singled out the alarm that had been broken.

She hit the main floor, horribly wary of the limited time she had to usher people out.

'Torchwood!' she shouted, flashing her credentials to those who turned to get a better look. 'Please, don't panic, just do as they ask and leave the building. Nothing to worry about! We've got it covered here.'

They weren't fully convinced and Gwen knew, could see it in the dozens of eyes now resting upon her small frame.

A concerned elderly woman made to speak to Gwen, but she brushed her aside with her best understanding smile, only sweeping her eyes cursorily over the woman's lined face and salt-and-pepper speckled hair. The alarm was still ringing, echoing in her skull so that she couldn't escape its warning message. Beyond the white and sparkling blue tiles and out of the huge glass doors, over the heads of the anxious customers spilling out of the then, Gwen could see a curious crowd gathering on Queen Street. Did she have time to try and get them away as well? Would she need to?

She was suddenly aware of another beeping, overshadowed by the alarm but just as repetitive. The Rift alert monitor on her PDA. Now really wasn't the greatest time for the Rift to be spitting out more of its crap, Gwen thought bitterly as she pulled the PDA out of her pocket, if only to shut the beeping up for now. She glanced instinctively at the screen as she did so.

Five more signs of Rift activity, all focused in the building she was currently stood in. No life signs. More bombs? It was a distinct possibility. She had to warn Ianto.

…*…

For the second time in his relatively short life, Ianto was watching the seconds slide coldly by, the singularity scalpel shaking in his sweaty hands. Keep calm, he thought, you've survived this before- and worse.

The singularity scalpel wasn't working. Or, more precisely, it didn't seem to be having any affect on the bomb. The jumble of lines that had originally swirled about the rectangular screen were merely the equipment calibrating, but Ianto thought he had caught onto some of the inner workings as he sent Gwen on her way. He had been wrong and now time was running low, bleeding out with each shutter-change of the red numbers.

What could he do though? Without any tech to disable the bombs internal mechanisms it seemed that his only option was to find some way to minimise the blast impact. Was it wise to take it up onto the roof? Could he even make it there in time?

0:47… 0:46… 0:45…

From what Ianto could piece together of his jarred memories of the blast in the abandoned building, the bomb itself, as a single detonation, had not been that powerful. Enough to take him out and destroy part of the ceiling and wall, but not nearly enough to rip apart an entire building, especially not one this size. Ianto wondered if these assumptions were safe to make as he stuffed the singularity scalpel back into the equipment pack. Owen might have scowled at him and warned him to be more careful with his delicate medical equipment, had he been there. But he wasn't.

0:36… 0:35… 0:34…

And neither was Tosh. Or Gwen, or Jack.

Ianto's thoughts were scattered now. He tried to keep calm and focus as his mind irresistibly wandered to thoughts of things he had yet to do- finish reading that book, tidy up the Hub, smooth over ruffled feathers with UNIT after Jack's phone conversation with them. He had never quite completed a James Bondathon, something he'd-

No, focus on single thought, Ianto reminded himself firmly, get the job done. Deep breath. Let calm focus return, no good panicking at being alone and helpless- Another deep breath. Was his best option to just get as far away as possible and let the bomb do whatever damage it would? Jack wouldn't do that. And he'd lied to Gwen, told her he had it covered. His PDA beeped. Ianto scanned it, blue eyes widening.

Shit.

0:29… 0:28… 0:27…

…*…

As Gwen ran back towards the stairs, heart still hammering, she pressed a finger to her ear again. Still static at Jack's end, so she tried Ianto.

'Ianto, have you seen-?'

'Yep, five more readings, all distributed evenly out in this building. That's quite an explosion radius.'

'I'm coming back up now.'

'No! Get out, there's only sixteen- fifteen seconds left on this one, who knows about the others? Get out while you still can.'

'The singularity scalpel?'

'Didn't work. Sorry.'

'Then why're you still up there counting the seconds, Ianto? Get the fuck as far away as possible!'

She was shouting now as she sprinted up the stairs, her thick accent magnified in the echoes that crashed off the walls. The noise of the alarm seemed to travel down the looping staircase, twirling its way repeatedly up and down the faux-marble tiles. Her PDA plipped loudly again as her proximity to the wall brought her closer to another of the bombs.

Things had scaled massively beyond their control, it had all seemed so simple as they had strolled into the shopping centre less than ten minutes ago. How could something go to shit so fast?

'Trust me, I am. You should do the same.'

'No, I'm coming to find you first.'

'There's got to be about five fucking seconds left, Gwen, just get out, I'll be _fine_.'

'Last time you said that to me you were lying.'

Her words practically rolled off her tongue as one, no time for wasting breath in between; the breath with which she spoke an entire sentence could be her last and she might never know. She wasn't sure what she was trying to prove, calling Ianto on his lie, whether she was just trying to keep talking, whether she was aiming to reassure herself or Ianto. Both most likely. It didn't matter anyway, because Ianto was doing the same, keeping the words coming, a measure of comfort in knowing that they weren't alone.

Much the same as Tosh and Owen had talked to each other right to the end, even though neither could see the other, and both knew what was coming.

Gwen had just started to notice this parallel somewhere in the back of her adrenalin-fuzzed mind as Ianto spoke again.

'I didn't know I was ly-,'

He didn't finish the sentence. It wouldn't have mattered if he had anyway, because Gwen certainly wouldn't have heard him as she was tossed aside like an unloved ragdoll, thrown over the banister as a brutal confetti of bricks and metal fell around her. Her world was black before she even had the chance to acknowledge the resounding blast.

But her body never hit the stairs below. Instead she hung, stiffly frozen in mid air, back bent, legs splayed, amongst the shards of wall that were also suddenly still around her, as if someone had hit pause on a recording as the on-screen character hit the most awkward angle of a painful scene.

Only one floor above Gwen, Ianto had also been thrown forward by the explosion behind him. Chunks of brick followed the same trajectory as he did, flying through the air in a head-buzzing haze, freshly broken cables and wires sparking aggressively on the edges of his periphery.

And though Ianto never quite blacked out as Gwen had done, he too, never hit the ground. Just stayed, unmoving, floating stationary, inches off the splintered floor, everything still and silent around him.

…*…

A/N: Thanks to those who reviewed the first chapter, feedback is much appreciated! Oh, and forgot this last time:

**Disclaimer: **Nope, not mine, just borrowing.


	3. Chapter 3

Back at the Hub, Jack couldn't help but feel that the overlong phone conversation with UNIT General Thompson had been a complete waste of his time. The man, newly promoted to his position as General, was almost a walking encyclopaedia on the history of UNIT and its alien encounters- he had clearly done his homework. He was, however, almost entirely useless when it came to new discoveries, too caught up in the old fashioned handbook, not quick enough on his feet; which is why he had called Jack in the aftermath of the explosion of a crate of an alien races' equivalent of ecstasy at a UNIT warehouse. Unfortunately for UNIT, the gaseous drug affected humans through inhalation. Safe to say, it had been a disaster for UNIT and the new General who had called upon Jack's relative expertise in order to understand the situation and prevent anything like it from happening again.

Jack glanced at his watch as he was finally able to put the phone down, almost forty-five minutes after the call had first come through. He noted that Gwen and Ianto had been gone for over an hour now- he had expected them to have returned while he was still caught up on the phone.

With the familiar, prickling sense of unease spreading up the back of his neck, Jack pressed a finger to his ear, activating his comm.

'Ianto? Gwen?' Jack's mouth was a little dry from irritably raising his voice to General Thompson.

A broken crackle of static passed through Jack's eardrum and echoed in his head. Not good, these comm systems never failed of their own accord. The only way to prevent any of the Torchwood team reaching each other through their comms was to block or override the signal- and you would need very advanced technology to do so. Jack recalled only one person who had ever been able to deactivate their comms- another man from the fifty-first century, one who had branded Toshiko's best work as 'primitive'.

Jack let his hand drop from where it was still hanging by his right ear and walked out of his open office door, over to Gwen's computer where the Rift alert had come through. Focusing in on the readings, Jack could see five more spikes had appeared, about twenty minutes previous, their origins close to where the first readings had come though. So close, in fact, that they were practically on top of each other.

With an angered grunt, Jack slammed the wireless mouse down on the desk. Someone had disabled the Rift alert system, so that it picked up new readings but didn't set off the alarms in order to bring the situation to attention. The jagged blue lines pulsed on screen almost mockingly, a ball of blue light tracing the paths they made like a heart monitor with dramatic fluctuations.

Stamping down on the urge to rush in and _do something_, Jack inhaled deeply through flared nostrils and brought up the multiple CCTV views of the Capitol shopping centre, where all of the Rift spikes originated. He smacked the side of the monitor in irritation when it looked as though the screen had frozen on the slightly blocky and blurry grey images. But, no, the time codes were still running in the bottom corner of each window. The computer was not faulty, the cameras were still relaying exactly what was happening where they were positioned. It was the images themselves that were frozen. Something caught Jack's eye in the corner of one picture.

Jack peered closer to the screen, zooming in on each individual window, using all of the angles of CCTV available to him. And he didn't like what he saw.

Life had stopped. Everywhere on screen, people were frozen in a sort of suspended animation- getting out of cars, a crowd jostling through the doors of the centre, even a kid swinging off a lamppost. Each and every person unmoving in their action; it was like some sort of massive scale frozen mime act.

Suddenly, one of the cameras swung round, slowly panning away from the site and up the street. There was movement here- police officers kitted out in their vivid vests, the reflective silver letters of the word 'Heddlu' on their backs. Jack watched as they fought to keep back a gathering of people, all curious to see what was going on beyond the blue and white tape that stopped them progressing down the street. As the camera had moved, Jack had picked up on a strange phenomenon, seeing where the world of the moving met with the still-life, like those who were paused in their movements were caught in some sort of giant bubble.

One of the other cameras moved round, Jack pictured it pivoting on its base in his mind, and he finally saw that the danger extended further than a group of civilians all trapped in tableau. The camera angled up towards the back of the Capitol centre, catching the gleam of the buildings glass front which appeared to be shattering outwards, huge narrow icicles of glass frozen mid-blast. Up and down the side of the building, Jack could now see signs of an explosion caught in stasis, bricks and glass, even a few cars thrown halfway into the air.

And Gwen and Ianto were in there.

Jack raced to his office to grab the keys to the SUV, before his mind caught up with him and he remembered that Ianto and Gwen had taken the Torchwood vehicle when they had left earlier. Turning quickly on his heel, grabbing his RAF greatcoat as he did so, Jack took the few short steps to Ianto's desk, where he opened the top drawer to find the keys to Ianto's Audi (he had updated to a newer, sleeker model shortly after John had committed suicide in his old car).

Bunching the keys in his fists so that the rippled edges dug into his skin, Jack punched the buttons needed to activate the invisible lift on his vortex manipulator. He leapt on just as began its ascent.

…*…

'Torchwood,' Jack said, without his customary grin, to the first police officer he came to. 'I need to know who's in charge here.'

It was starting to get dark in the capital now, and the young officer squinted up at Jack under the saffron glow of an old streetlight.

'They told us Torchwood were in there,' he said suspiciously.

'Who did?'

'Couple of people got out before- well, whatever happened in there. Witnesses said that there was a woman there, claiming to be Torchwood, shouting at them all to leave.'

'That's one of my people,' Jack said swiftly, not looking at the officer as he watched other members of the police fight to keep the public away. A TV crew were setting up on then outskirts of the police barrier- Jack recognised the female news presenter with the nice smile.

'Harkness!' a familiar voice called over the confusion of people. The call was shortly followed by the appearance of DI Kathy Swanson. 'For once, am I glad to see you.'

'I'd say likewise, Detective Swanson, but it's not really the best of times is it?'

'This is a major situation. We're clueless, hoping you lot might be able to help us out. Have you any idea what this is? Where's the rest of your team?'

'I have an inkling and… They're in there…' Jack shut his eyes tightly for a moment. He couldn't lose Ianto and Gwen. He opened them again and turned a serious eye on the shorter woman. 'What have you got so far?'

'Fire alarm was activated at about quarter past five, centre management didn't know whether it was a hoax but kept on the safe side and issued an alert for everyone to evacuate,' DI Swanson started, reeling the details off mentally. 'No problems with that, lifts were disabled and civilians started to leave. Around fifty people made it out into the clear when there was a sudden blast. Witnesses on the scene say they barely had time to register where the sound was coming from before they saw that everything had just… stopped. That's what you're seeing now, hasn't changed since the initial blast; some of the witnesses reckon there were multiple blasts, actually. We can't get too close to the scene, only within a few metres of where everything seems to be frozen. Like there's some sort of wall there.'

'A stasis containment field,' Jack said quickly as he went over what he had just learnt in his head.

'Sorry?'

'That's what you're dealing with here, Detective, a stasis containment field, possibly from the, oh… thirty-third century? That is an explosion waiting to happen, all it needs is some sort of activation key.'

'Then what do we-?' Detective Swanson's question was interrupted by a hiss of static from the walkie-talkie she gripped in her right hand. Raising her eyebrows in apology to Jack, she brought it up to her lips.

'DI Swanson here, what have we got?'

She released the 'talk' button with an electric blip.

'A man,' it was a male voice beneath the layers of electronic interference. 'Says 'e's with Torchwood, but I don't believe 'im. Wants to talk to the Captain.'

DI Swanson turned to Jack questioningly.

'One of yours?'

Jack knew that what remained of his team were trapped in the building, but he had a feeling he knew who the man was.

'Big Welsh guy, won't quit yelling?' he asked.

The Detective repeated Jack into the walkie-talkie and waited for a response.

'Sounds exactly like 'im.'

Jack rubbed a hand over his face wearily; he really didn't want to have to deal with an overprotective Rhys right now, but he was on his own and Gwen's husband had proved a useful ally in the past.

'Send him over here.'

Jack had barely had time to think before Rhys had been allowed past the barricade and sprinted over.

'Jack!' Rhys' tone was almost relieved. 'I heard the news report on the radio, and I knew that Gwen was in there, I spoke to 'er only bloody minutes before they're saying that explosion went off. I came straight over, thought you might all be in there and then we'd all be screwed,' he paused for breath. 'What's going to happen, Jack? My Gwen's in there and they're saying that there's been bombs set off…'

Jack ran a hand through his hair and then stuffed both hands into the pockets of his greatcoat. He stared deep into Rhys' concerned brown eyes as he thought things through. The Welshman held his gaze, unblinking. DI Swanson looked between the two men, having made the link between the newcomer and Torchwood based pon what she knew of its staff.

'I can help,' he added with conviction. 'Whatever it is we have to do, I want to help.'

Releasing a long, slightly shuddering breath, Jack started to voice his thoughts aloud, not dismissing Rhys' declaration.

'As far as my knowledge of stasis field containers goes, there's got to be a key of some kind to reactivate movement features. It's different to a time lock because time is still running in there, there's just no way for people to measure it if they're caught in suspended animation. So, that's got to be the first thing; find the key.'

'And then what?' DI Swanson piped up again, shaking her head slightly in disbelief as she took in Jack's unreal sounding words. 'We use it and that explosion continues to go off?'

'Yes.'

'There are hundreds of people still in there!' she protested. 'If we reactivate movement, that explosion could kill them and more besides. Isn't there-?'

'No,' Jack snapped. 'No other way, otherwise I'd be the first to suggest it. It's either reactivate motion and let the blast finish, or leave the people trapped in there- forever.'

The tension in the air was palpable as Jack continued, glaring between the Detective and Rhys.

'That's the choice we have to make. Now, tell me what you want to do.'

Rhys' jaw was dropped, mouth open in an admirable impression of a goldfish. Jack could almost see his thoughts processing. DI Swanson simply returned Jack's glare.

'We'll think of something,' she said finally. Rhys clapped his mouth shut again, teeth clanging together audibly.

'I'm telling you, there is no other way!' Jack half-shouted at the woman, before wheeling away from her and marching over to the edge of the containment field. Behind him, Rhys threw the Detective a sidelong glance and followed after Jack, whose coat was flapping around his legs as he stood stiffly staring into the frozen scene.

Jack was just about to open his mouth to speak when his wrist strap beeped, for the third time in less than a year. Funny how it had been silent for the hundred and fifty years or so before that. Heart plunging to somewhere near his feet, Jack slowly raised his arm, wrist extended, and pressed the button that would play the message he had just received.

But it wasn't John, like Jack had suspected. It was, in all his flickering blue glory, Jack's younger brother Gray. But how…? Jack felt Rhys' presence at his shoulder as the 3D projection began to speak, voice void of emotion.

'Jack,' he said. 'I'll be reunited with you soon, hopefully only minutes after I send this if that coward John fears for his own life enough to do as he's told. Confused? Well, that's the beauty of time travel, Jack, I can visit your future, in my past, and you won't know until you get there.'

The hologram grinned manically in self-satisfaction, pleased with his own ingenuity.

'See, I set this up as a reminder, Jack, so you don't forget me when you're dug up after I've ripped your world apart… Wouldn't want you to get off too easy.'

Jack's mind was slotting all the pieces together as Gray spoke; so he had set all of this up _before_ John had taken Jack back to be buried alive…

'Utilising the Rift that runs through your precious city, I've set these bombs- my own creation- to arrive sometime after you've been unburied. I know you'll send your little team to investigate, but I don't want things to be too simple for you, so I've set up a little distraction for you. That crate that exploded- for you, will explode for me- I sent it. Something special in the gas to ensure that whatever idiot finds it calls you at the right time to stop you from leaving with your team- clever mind control device from the Allied Galaxy, I don't have to do a thing anymore… And the best part? The key to unlock the stasis containment field… Your DNA, Jack. As soon as you step within range, your DNA will trigger the lock mechanism and the explosions will complete. You may get hit, but you and I both know that you'll survive. But any deaths? They'll be your fault, Jack, you'll be the one to blame… All because you were too selfish to look out for your little brother.'

The words were coming thick and fast now, each one slamming into Jack like a sharpened blow. Even after everything that had happened last time, Jack couldn't believe what Gray was doing…

'That's your choice, Jack. Enter and there's the possibility that you'll kill hundreds of innocent people… Or abandon them, and your beloved team, whatever's left of it, or whoever you've recruited in their stead, abandon them to be trapped forever because you were too weak to decide. Whatever happens to me after I punish you and leave you dying and reviving underground, I at least have this assurance that you won't forget me… And you never will, because, who knows, maybe there's more?'

With that final chilling sentiment, the image of Gray flickered and faded, the beam of light retracting back into Jack's wrist strap. Jack felt tears burning in his ears, but did not know what they were for, his emotions were so jumbled. Best to just ignore any emotions, keep them way below the surface.

Rhys was staring at Jack in what Jack thought was fear. He wondered how much Gwen had explained to her husband, and how much of that message Rhys had just understood.

'Jack…' he said hesitantly, and Jack wasn't sure whether it was a question or reassurance of some sort. Jack closed his eyes and took a deep breath, before looking at Rhys with pity marring his features.

'I'm sorry,' he said simply.

And with that, he took the few determined steps needed to cross the edge of the field and reactivate movement within it.

There was no waiting around for other answers, because Jack knew that anything they tried would be futile. He had to take the risk.

And it might be Ianto's and Gwen's lives that paid for it.

…*…

A/N: Just want to thank those who've reviewed- I love reading them! Also, now this idea is becoming better explained, I hope that you find it feasible as something Gray could do, and maybe would do.


	4. Chapter 4

Several resounding, ear-splitting bangs exploded in Jack's ears as he shut his eyes tight, the expulsion gust from the blast whipping up around him. He didn't want to look as, over the ringing still echoing in his ears, he heard a crescendo of pained and terrified screams, somehow louder than the background sound of glass crashing and shattering, bricks and cement splitting and buckling outwards. Several car alarms were shrieking, taking part in a dizzying sound battle with emergency service sirens. Warm air rushed over Jack's face. He barely concealed a flinch when a splinter of glass flew past, slicing rapidly along his cheek, opening the flesh like an envelope to reveal glittering scarlet beneath.

Jack had been lucky, stood on the edge of the stasis containment fields range as he was. He had known that the blast would be contained within the field and should probably have got the police to disperse the petrified outside crowds first, but he hadn't thought about the small details. They'd all be fine, once they had recovered from the shock.

A minute must have passed before Jack opened his eyes again. Complete chaos surrounded him- people screaming, running, bleeding, shouting, clambering, trapped, crushed, dying… All in a single-weapon battlefield of shattered glass and brick and- in the rather tragicomic aftermath of a shopping centre having been blown up- shopping items, such as DVDs and CDs from Zaavi at the front of the centre, a disarray of ripped clothes from others… Half an upside-down car lay reeling like an overturned beetle on the road, having been blown off the roof-top parking.

The foundations of the centre still stood, the 'C' of the title Capitol hanging precariously overhead on some of the remaining window. Most of the back half of the building still stood, though slightly collapsed in on itself. Wires had been torn out of the walls and were now sparking dangerously, some having already encouraged the small-flamed beginnings of growing fires.

Paramedics laden with medical equipment were already on scene, teamed up with shocked police officers and one or two firemen. They all ignored Jack, stood stock-still on the edge of the chaos.

Jack looked at the destruction, and knew that he had caused it. Again.

From behind, Rhys grabbed Jack's shoulder and spun him around, looking like he wasn't sure whether to punch Jack or not. His mouth opened to speak, but Jack cut over him.

'You said you wanted to help, yeah?'

'I- Yes, yes. I'm hardly gonna bloody leave now am I?'

Jack wasn't really taking in a word Rhys said as he fished around in his pockets. His hand closed over what he was looking for and he gestured for Rhys to hold out his own to take it. Jack pressed the spare Bluetooth comm into Rhys' sweaty palm.

'Put that in your ear. I know I can't stop you going in there after your wife and I'm not going to try, so we're gonna work together on this, right?'

Rhys was already scrabbling to hook the curled, transparent wire over his ear. He must have seen Gwen putting hers on dozens of times by now.

'Help who you can,' Jack said hurriedly, his voice low. He could see DI Swanson shouting orders into her walkie-talkie out of the corner of his eye. She seemed to have forgotten all about Jack. 'But your primary targets are Gwen and Ianto. They were in there, and probably close to the blast. I've just re-enabled the comms and if we have to split up and you need to get in contact with me, just press the unit in your ear and talk.'

Rhys nodded and Jack could see that he was clinging onto his every word. He clapped the Welshman on the shoulder.

'And be careful, will ya, Rhys? Gwen will kill me for sending you in like this.'

'If anything's happened to her, Jack…' he said darkly, brushing Jack's hand away as he started to walk.

'You'll have to get in line,' Jack murmured following after the other man. 'Because if anything has happened to either of them, I'll be the first person to shoot myself…'

…*…

Hot. Very hot, heat clinging to his skin, spreading its burning tendrils into his very pores. The potent scent of petrol, something hissing over the hollow ringing in his sore eardrums…

Ianto came to with a startled jump, like he had been having a dream about falling. A heavy throbbing was persistently battering the back of his eyeballs as he pushed himself up groggily. He inhaled sharply at the spasm of pain that ran down his right side, only causing himself to gasp further in pain as he tried to take a deep breath and found that he couldn't.

Taking shallow breaths, trying to keep calm, Ianto prised open his eyelids. He was met with the fierce saffron glare of flames, waving branches of fire dangerously close to where he lay in the caved-in corridor. A nebulous layer of smoke swirled like a fluid carpet across the ceiling. Ianto coughed painfully as he breathed again, backing away from the flames.

Right, first things first, assess physical condition. Pain in side- ribs, possibly fractured or cracked from impact upon landing. Ianto flexed both of his arms and was pleased to find that they seemed relatively undamaged, slight bruising aside. He tested both of his legs and pulled up his torn trouser leg as a twinge ran up his right leg to discover a heavily bruised and damaged kneecap. His left ankle appeared to be sprained, but he'd be able to limp on it. As for the difficulty breathing, that was due in part to his ribs but also to smoke inhalation, Ianto surmised.

Medical assessment complete, all in all, Ianto considered himself to have been extremely lucky; it could have been so much worse. On the other hand, he still had to get out of here, and that would require passing the flames. Shit, and all other associated words. Fuck.

Ianto stood up awkwardly, his left leg bent to take the weight off his ankle. His bruised right knee wasn't happy about this, but there wasn't a lot he could do. He slid his sooty suit jacket off and used it to cover his mouth so that he didn't breathe in too much more smoke, the acrid scent of which was causing his eyes to water. He leant against the wall with one arm as he took a moment to think through his predicament.

The bomb had gone off in the corridor not far behind Ianto, leaving the place lined with parts of the ceiling and the floor above. No point in going back that way. The floor Ianto was stood upon appeared to being creaking under the strain, and a prominent crack wound its zig-zag grinning way towards him. If he strained his eyes, Ianto could see past where the door had been blown cleanly off its rusted hinges, through to the car park beyond the rising flames. More small fires were burning there, dancing triumphantly in the shells of cars, damaged beyond any hope of repair.

With a sudden rush of static, Ianto's comm. sparked back into life.

'Ian…to?' Jack's broken voice filtered though, the comm. having been crushed in Ianto's fall. 'Gw-en?'

Coughing again and wincing against the pain, Ianto lifted his hand to activate his comm.

'Jack?' he choked as he breathed in more smoke. His eyes stung and his throat felt as dry and ravaged as a desert.

'Ian-to!' Jack sounded immensely relieved, his words followed by what sounded like a strangled laugh. 'Where… -ou? I'… -ming.'

'Sorry, Jack,' he wheezed. 'Can't hear you, comm. was damaged in the blast.'

'I sai-… Where a-re you?'

The details were blurred in Ianto's smoke-addled mind.

'Second floor car park. Trying to get out, but there's fire.'

'You… -kay?'

'Mostly,' he coughed again, inhaling sharply through his nostrils. 'Nothing serious.'

No point in worrying Jack over a few cracked ribs and a dodgy ankle, Ianto decided.

'You se-… Gwen?'

'No, sorry, Jack. She was on the stairs.'

'Ok-… Coming now. Yo-… Out.'

'Yes, Jack.'

With a final cough, Ianto deactivated his comm. and dropped his hand to his side. Time to face the flames.

…*…

The sound of Ianto's voice had come as a huge relief to Jack as he wound his way through the broken entrance, careful not to step on the glass that littered the sparkling white tiles like slabs of ice on an ice floe. Rhys, just ahead of Jack, had been trying to get hold of Gwen, but to no avail. A horrible coldness seeped into Jack and clutched at his heart as Rhys desperately repeated Gwen's name, seemingly to thin air, his hand pressed hard to his ear as he listened for any reply.

'Gwen, Gwen love, it's Rhys… Can you hear me, Gwen?' Rhys' voice quavered unsteadily. Jack tried to block out the sound of the other man's increasingly anxious attempts to reach his wife by focusing on the melee of other sounds around him- sirens and shouts, cries and calls. It didn't help.

A broken, reedy voice suddenly piped up from beneath a pile of rubble.

'Someone there? Anyone?'

It was a young man, barely out of his teens Jack saw as he took a few fast paces in the direction of the voice. He was buried under a frosted pane of glass from the bridge that had once spanned across the upper floor. It was heavy, and the man restlessly tried to shift it. Jack noticed his leg was twisted out at an unnatural angle. The man whimpered in pain as he shoved at the glass, blood dripping down from a cut across his nose onto his dusty shop uniform; he was a sales assistant at the mobile phone store near the entrance, according to the logo on his black polo shirt.

Jack hunkered down next to the man, coat pooling at his feet.

'What's your name?' he asked calmly, hoping his tone would have a soothing effect on the distressed individual.

'K-Kevin,' he managed to get out, staring up at Jack, eyes squinted against the pain.

'Alright, Kevin, you're going to be fine. I'm going to get you out of here, okay?'

Kevin nodded, eyes tight shut, hands still gripping the glass pane.

'Rhys!' Jack called over to Rhys, who had paused hopelessly halfway up the ruined concourse. 'I need a hand here!'

Rhys shook his head slightly to clear it and tried to focus on the task at hand as he approached Jack. He looked pitifully down at Kevin, who was breathing heavily through his nose, eyes still shut. Jack looked up at Rhys.

'Ianto said she was on the stairs,' he told Rhys levelly. 'So we know where to find her… She's made of tough stuff, Rhys, she probably just blacked out, or her comms are down, but we'll find her… After we get Kevin out from under here. Alright?'

Rhys nodded, setting his features determinedly.

'Right… You'll be out of here in no time, Kevin, mate,' he smiled at Kevin, but it didn't quite reach his eyes, which had lost their usual warmth.

Jack gestured for Rhys to grab the other side of the glass as he pushed Kevin's hands away. The injured young man had been gripping it so tightly that his knuckles shone like angular pearls of bone through his skin. With a grunt, Jack and Rhys started to lift.

'Gah!' Kevin cried through gritted teeth as the glass inched off his skinny frame. He panted and clenched his fists, pushing down on the ground. Then, the glass was off him and Jack and Rhys were chucking it away to one side. It fell with a dull clunk and slid across the tiles, still not breaking.

Rhys caught sight of a paramedic lingering nearby.

'Oi, you, mate!' he called. 'Lend us a hand, would you?'

The paramedic dashed over, slinging an equipment pack off his shoulder.

'No time for that, just get him out of here,' Jack ordered, helping a struggling Kevin up. The paramedic helped him without a word.

'What- What's your name?' Kevin managed to get out, as he slung an arm around the paramedic's shoulder to keep steady, his leg oddly buckled beneath him.

'Jack.'

'Jack, thanks,' he said the words with a pain-strained smile, more of a grimace of gratitude than anything else. Kevin looked to Rhys. 'You too… I- I hope you find who you're looking for.'

Without seeming to acknowledge Kevin's words, Rhys was back up the concourse, heading to where he knew the stairwells were. Jack gave Kevin and the paramedic a simple nod.

'Get yourselves out of here.'

And then he was gone, sprinting up the concourse after Rhys before he could do anything either incredibly brave, or incredibly stupid, because Jack knew Rhys would do either and anything besides for Gwen.

…*…

A/N: Thanks to those who've reviewed!


	5. Chapter 5

Rhys came to a stumbling halt at the entrance to the stairway, Jack hot on his heels. He threw Jack a cursory glance over his shoulder, before ducking under a piece of slanting, blue-frosted glass that was jammed between the two walls of the doorway. Jack followed, one hand sliding under the smooth glass pane overhead as he crouched to walk below it.

The stairwell was dark, only a wall light high above them on the top floor still showed any flickering signs of life. Jack reached into his greatcoat and pulled out a small maglite torch, which he kept stowed away in his inside pocket for emergencies. He squeezed the black rubber button silently and the area was immediately illuminated with a strong beam of white light. He held the torch beside his head, swinging the beam across the rubble, highlighting swirling clouds of dust, like the rainbow film of a bubble.

Most of the stairs were still intact, though covered in the charred remains of one of the upstairs walls. The white tiles were cracked and chipped, but still looked usable. He flicked the beam down, just below Rhys' chin, where he stood next to the navy banister, which had been bent heavily out of shape.

'Gwen could be in here,' he stated, a little blankly.

Jack pointed the beam upwards and tested the bottom step, the rugged soles of his boots crumbling the edge away.

'Yes.'

Jack took a few more steps up, carefully stepping over a chunk of bland cement. More concrete crumbled, falling away like silver ash from a thick cigar to the floor below. Rhys blinked rapidly as some almost trickled into his eyes. He ran a shaking hand over his face and hurried after Jack, taking confident but careful steps, focusing on the task, trying not to remember all of the images of the aftermath of the Cardiff blasts a few months ago.

'Gwen!' Rhys' voice echoed dizzyingly around the walls, chasing up the stairwell. 'Gwen?'

Jack reached back a hand to rest on Rhys' shoulder, raising his index finger to his lips in a gesture of silence.

'Gotta be careful of sound reverberations,' he warned in a low whisper. 'Enclosed space like this, could be dangerous.'

Rhys nodded in understanding. No more shouting. He took a few more steps and squeezed past Jack, wanting to be the first to find his wife.

Half a flight up and the state of the stairwell looked even worse; there were even more remnants of thick concrete wall and the steel banisters had been twisted horribly out of shape. If Gwen had been caught up in this…

Something moved in the corner of Rhys' eye, on the next flight up. He nearly tripped up the steps as he eagerly headed toward the movement, dread curdling nauseatingly in the pit of his stomach. The beam of Jack's torch fell onto the back of Rhys' legs as he drew further away, sure that Jack had noticed the movement too.

A weak groan, followed by a piteous cough. More rubble dropped from above, little pieces rolling loudly down the stairs into Rhys' feet. Rhys felt his heart catch in his throat, stopping the oxygen as he forgot to breathe. He could just see a pale, grazed hand lying palm up, extended from under a pile of rubble. And Rhys recognised that hand, and the rings on the ring finger- he had put them both there.

'Gwen?' he croaked, voice lost somewhere in his shock. 'Gwen, love?'

Silence. The hand twitched slightly. Rhys felt Jack coming up quickly to pass behind him and he launched himself ahead of the older man, collapsing on his knees before the pile. He took the hand in his own, held it up to his warm cheek.

'She's cold,' he muttered. 'Shit, Jack, she's freezin'!'

Gwen's fingers curled marginally, just ghosting along the surface of Rhys' cheek. Jack dropped down beside Rhys and placed the torch between two chunks of rock to keep it steady, the steady rope of light casting shadows over the rubble. Rhys could now see the top of Gwen's head and legs free of brick, though her torso and face were covered. Her fingers twitched again as Jack began to carefully pull the detritus away. Gently dropping Gwen's hand to the dusty ground, Rhys began to help the other, silent man.

'Rh-Rhys?' Gwen's voice was quivering and her breathing seemed shallow. Rhys startled at the sudden consciousness of his wife. He brushed some more rock away from her face and gasped when this action revealed an ugly red welt across her forehead, peppered with bruising.

'I'm here, love,' he said delicately, throwing a quick sideways glance at Jack. 'Me and Jack, we're here. We're going to get you out, alright?'

'Jack?'

'Right here, Gwen,' Jack reassured his injured colleague. 'Try not to move, okay? We don't know the extent of your injuries, and we want to get you out of here with minimal damage. Can you do that for me?'

'Hurts…' she moaned and Rhys tensed at her tone, like a small child, confused and in pain, not completely sure where she was. 'My back… can't- can't feel my arm…'

Rhys pressed a soft kiss to her forehead as Jack stepped around to her other side to start shifting the larger proportion of the rubble. Gwen took a sudden deep, pained inhalation as a large wedge of wall was pulled off her stomach.

'Shh, shh,' Rhys hushed, tenderly tracing his fingers across her face. She bit her lip and a small, silent tear crept out of the corner of her tightly shut eyes. Rhys brushed it away with his thumb, rolling the droplet out between forefinger and thumb.

'No sudden movements, Gwen,' Jack's voice came from her feet, where he was still working to free her. Gwen tried to laugh ironically, but it hurt too much.

'Like I can,' she wheezed, then clenched her teeth. 'Oh, my head! Feels like it's going to explode and… Ah! My back, pins and needles all over…'

Rhys met Jack's worried gaze over Gwen's prone form. Jack mouthed the words 'Keep talking to her' as he bent down to lift the shard of wall that had buried Gwen's arm, which was crushed painfully beneath.

'Your back?' he said with a faint smile, staring intently at Gwen's taut features. 'What about mine, all this heavy lifting… You're gonna call me a wuss, you are, letting Jack do all the work here.'

A brief smile quirked the corners of Gwen's lips, then she exhaled heavily again as Jack finally get enough leverage to shift the rock off her arm.

'No,' she said through deep breaths. 'I'm gonna thump you one for following me.'

Rhys rubbed the pad of his thumb across the back of her hand in a repetitive motion, trying to give Gwen a different sensation to focus on beside pain.

'_No_,' Rhys repeated Gwen, with slightly more conviction. 'Cos you need me here, and you know I wouldn't be anywhere else. Stubborn, me, learnt from the best- and that's you, by the way.'

'Thanks,' Gwen breathed.

She didn't make another sound after that for a few long seconds. They stretched out almost endlessly in front of Rhys who stared at her intently, willing her for a continued sign of life. There wasn't even the flicker of an eyelid, her mouth had gone slack and the steady up-down, in-out motions of her breathing had stalled. She was so pale- she looked for all the world to be dead. Rhys unintentionally tightened the grip on her hand as he choked back a sob.

Jack, too, had paused in his stoic removal of the debris, his own breath caught somewhere in his throat. _Come on, Gwen…_ he thought deperately, feeling his pulse quicken, leaping erratically below his jaw. He dropped to his knees beside her, across from Rhys, unable to meet the other man's watering eyes. All of Jack's thoughts echoed the same guilt-riddled sentiment- _myfaultmyfaultmyfault_… With calm, careful hands that barely spoke of his inner turmoil, Jack felt for a pulse on the exposed whiteness of Gwen's throat.

Nothing. And then… There! The tiniest movement of blood beneath the surface, a sign that her heart was still pumping away determinedly. It was faint and not completely reassuring as to Gwen's continued survival, but it was there. He brought his hand away from her neck and rubbed at his chin with his index finger and thumb.

'She's unconscious,' Jack told Rhys. 'The sooner we get her out of here, the better.'

'We've- you've got all that crap off, is it safe to move her?'

Jack considered the situation.

'Very, _very _carefully,' he decided. 'We don't know if she's got any internal bleeding and if she was complaining about her back… I don't wanna scare you, Rhys, but you know that could be serious. So, we don't want to be jostling her round, we need to get her out to the paramedics, soon as possible.'

Jack signalled for Rhys to take some of Gwen's weight, and they both lifted her to her feet. Her head flopped forward lifelessly and Jack had to remind himself that she _was _still alive beneath the messy sweep of dark hair that covered her face. A glistening patch of sticky blood matted the hair at the back of Gwen's head and Jack quickly inspected the wound- it didn't look deep enough to be a sign of any serious damage, just enough for the scratch to bleed. Swooping down, Jack scooped Gwen up from below the knees to swing her up into a fireman's lift. She felt so small in Jack's arms.

Rhys saw this and paused for a second, eyes staring at Jack's shoulder, somewhere between Jack and Gwen's faces. Jack was just about to open his mouth to tell Rhys to get a move on when the Welshman bent to collect Jack's torch.

'Lead the way,' Jack said.

The path was still clear from where they had walked earlier, Rhys stopping every few paces to shine the torch at Jack's feet so he could to take further, careful strides. It was only twenty seconds until they were back out in the shadows of the main concourse, and another ten from there before they were back out under the streetlights of Queen Street.

Two paramedics darted to their sides and Gwen grumbled as Jack placed her on a stretcher for the two medics to fuss over her. He reeled off what he knew of her injuries to them and they nodded understandingly, before pressing an oxygen mask to her face. Rhys stood by, still clutching her hand, running his thumb over the cool, gold band of her wedding ring.

Jack turned away from the scene, looking up at the destroyed building. He could see vicious orange flames billowing in the chill wind on the top of the building, dancing their victory as tendrils of flame spread to conquer what remained. He activated his comm., keeping his hand cupped about his ear as he spoke.

'Ianto?'

No reply.

'Ianto, it's Jack… Come on, Ianto, I know you can hear me!'

The steady buzz of the comm. mechanics in Jack's ear, like a persistent fly. Then,

'Jack?' it sounded like Ianto was shouting. 'I can't hear you properly, my comm. is broken! Don't even know if you can hear me!' A hacking cough ripped down the connection at this point. 'Sorry, smoke is pretty thick… I'm stuck on the mid-floor car park, the fire is spreading, I can't get to fire escape, blast damage is blocking it off. Heading for the stairs and main entrance…'

'Heard you loud and clear, Ianto, I'm heading back in to find you. Got Gwen out!'

'Gwen out? Good.'

'I'm coming for you now, Ianto… Be careful!'

There was a moment of silence from Ianto's end and Jack wondered if the younger man had heard him, until he heard the dry reply of,

'Of course.'

Jack's lips quirked into a tight smirk at Ianto's familiar, sarcastic tone, proof that he was keeping calm. He turned his back on the building and caught Rhys' attention as Gwen was being stretchered down the street to one of a mass of ambulances, a colony of white vehicles bathed in flashing blue.

'Keep the comm. I gave you open,' Jack told Rhys who nodded. 'I want to know what's happening with Gwen and if the police come out and say anything. Just… keep me updated alright?'

Rhys nodded again. 'What're you-,'

'Ianto's still in there somewhere, I've got to make sure he's okay, help him get outta there if he needs me.'

'Well then… You keep me posted too,' Rhys tapped his ear to emphasise his point. 'No doubt Gwen'll want to know as soon as she's awake…'

'Yes…' Jack didn't allow his thoughts to wander down the treacherous path that was only too happy to point out that they didn't know for certain what was wrong with Gwen, that she wasn't out of the woods yet… And Ianto was certainly still firmly rooted in them. 'Go on then, Rhys, before they leave without you… And Rhys!' he called after the retreating back. 'Thank you!'

Rhys' only response was to nod resolutely and dash off in the direction of Gwen's ambulance. Safe in the knowledge that Gwen was being taken care of, Jack headed back to the burning building, mind set on finding Ianto.

'Oi, Captain Harkness!' DI Swanson was shouting at him. He was a little surprised to discover that she was still on scene, looking decidedly dishevelled. 'You can't go in there, trained personnel only.'

'I just came out of there,' Jack told her, with a shrug. 'Besides, don't your fire fighters need help if there're any civilians trapped in the building?'

'It's a customary search and rescue,' she answered, stopping a few feet away from him. 'Most people got out of the building. They're not sure about the foundations of the building, more could come down at any minute.'

'Well that gives me even more reason to be in there when I know a member of my team is struggling to get out. I take care of my own, Detective.'

'Can't you let a professional help for once, Captain? You're not trained for these circumstances.'

'I'm trained for any circumstance, Detective, because I'm trained to use my instincts. Got me out of a hell of a lotta trouble before.'

DI Swanson opened and closed her mouth for a second as the gears of her brain fought for a reply.

'You-,'

'No, I'm going in, I didn't see anyone helping to get Gwen out, and I can't trust you lot to get Ianto out either- especially if this building is gonna fall. And he is _very _important to me.'

For a second it looked as though Detective Swanson was going to yell 'I don't care!' but thought better and decided to choose her words more cautiously around the volatile Captain, who ignored her advice at the best of times.

'Listen to me,' she tried valiantly again. 'It's not safe! Just let some of the professionals help!'

Jack ignored her plea and wheeled around, marching defiantly towards the building just as the dented silver 'C' of the word Capitol finally fell.

'You know Torchwood,' he shouted back at her as the tumultuous noise of the crash subsided. 'We go wherever we damn well please.'

…*…

A/N: Thanks to those who have reviewed! According to my plan, one or two chapters left, hope you're still interested!


	6. Chapter 6

All of the flames seemed to be springing up out of nowhere, although, _logically_, Ianto rationalised to himself, they were being fed by the leaks of petrol and diesel everywhere around him in the devastated car park. He limped back awkwardly on his injured ankle, ducking away from the hiss of a newly birthed flame in the direction he had been headed. Great, he thought, another detour to make.

Ianto's thoughts were becoming more and more convoluted and any ideas of actual use to him in his situation seemed to be coming few and far between. He was struggling to breathe against the dark smoke creature that had recently curled and taken up tarry residence in his lungs. It was like, Ianto decided, a smoker's death sped up, and Ianto had been a smoker in the past… Another useless thought. Focus. Too hard… the heavily tangible petrol fumes were making his brain feel fuzzy, like it was slowly floating away… No; _focus_.

Talking to Jack over the comms., no matter how distorted the other man's voice, had given Ianto something to focus on, filling Jack in on the details he could remember with his back pressed sticky against the charred wall in a corner the smoke was still reaching for. But now that comfort was gone, Ianto had moved and the smoke had infiltrated everywhere. Where was Jack? He had said he was coming for Ianto… And why was he even here again?

Try again; _focus_.

Out- get out, that was what he was trying to do. Didn't want to stay here, much too hot- oh and the fire that may mean imminent death, that was another reason. Ianto coughed into his suit jacket again, like razors against his dry throat. He tried focusing on the pain of this and the extra agonising agitation the action brought to his bruised ribs. It might help if he had something solid and physical to anchor his thoughts to as less and less oxygen was getting to his exhausted brain.

Eyes steaming again, making it even more difficult to see through the haze of smoke, a teeming mass of smog that undulated and spread to each and every corner as the gas particles eagerly explored the new space. Ianto yelped and stumbled back as another spark of flame leapt up, spitting ash in his face like an indignant, blazing cobra. He was just able to make out a fresh burning smell and was quick to drop the suit jacket that he had been using to cover his mouth as fire clawed its way up the left sleeve. Ianto kicked it away where it was absorbed with great crackling enthusiasm by the flames.

Something across the fire-cracked and melted tarmac exploded with a metallic bang, on the other side of the inferno.

Ianto tried desperately to grasp his scattered thoughts… _Door_, had to find a door, then some stairs… More coughing, leaning over painfully, sooty hands on knees, losing further precious bodily fluids as his eyes watered, mingling with the sweat that decorated his ashen features. Spit out the coppery-tasting blood that most recent coughing fit had brought up. Huh, that wasn't good, Ianto thought calmly. Brilliant, he was still, _amazingly_, quite calm, just struggling with the concept of forward thinking. Boy, what the fumes could do to a person…

'Ianto?'

That voice, the strange American twang to the pronunciation of his name… It was familiar, comforting; Ianto had heard it not long ago… Jack!

'IANTO!'

…*..

As he raced back up the shopping concourse, Jack was dimly aware of fire fighters dawdling on the edges of his peripheral vision. Hadn't they learnt how to deal with these situations yet, after everything that had happened? It seemed they were caught up in some sort of safety protocol, assessing the hazard the building provided. But Jack was a protocol unto himself, with the highest jurisdiction that he would only bend to the will of one man… Well, alien, really.

It was different for him, Jack supposed, as Jack never had to worry about his own safety, ultimately, it just wasn't worth it. Instead, all of that energy could be spent ensuring the safety of his team. Jack had already failed Tosh and Owen, and to some extent, Suzie. Hell, he even felt responsible for the disaster with Alex at the very end of the last century; if only he had arrived back at the Hub sooner… No, Jack would be damned if he let anything happen to his team now- especially not Ianto.

Jack spun off one heel back into the stairwell he had not long left behind. He had his torch out again in one swift movement as he bounded up the shattered stairs two at a time, mindful of the debris which could trip him. He passed the place where Gwen had been trapped and noticed the oddly Gwen-shaped imprint left behind, a footprint of her entire body. He had to scramble on his hands and knees up over a large pile of rubble, but was then able to use it as a shortcut to the sizable hole that the bomb had created in the wall. He was now stood in the car park.

It all came back down to that original failing, Jack decided, when he was a teenager, thousands of years ago now on the tiny colony planet, his home on the Boeshane Peninsula. More specifically, the sand dunes where he had let go of his little brother's hand. And why was that mistake still haunting him? Jack really didn't need all of Gray's murderous reminders…

An engine exploded somewhere in a burnt out car and Jack ducked instinctively to avoid the fallout, a bar of oil-coated metal whizzing past his head at an alarming speed.

Ianto had been right when he had said about the fire blocking the exit- it was everywhere, and still spreading. Jack felt himself choking slightly as he tried to breathe in the smoke-filled air. He squinted against the smog clutching him in its death grip, like a gaseous anaconda, could feel the sweat already pinpricking the surface of his skin. It was incredibly hot; _roasting _hot.

And Ianto was still in here somewhere, had been ever since the initial blast- and that was almost an hour since passed now.

'Ianto?' Jack's voice was hesitant, not knowing what to expect. He spluttered against the mouthful of sour smoke he had just inhaled.

No answer.

'IANTO!'

Jack took a few further steps forward into the fire cage of the car park. Just dimly through a cloak of rippling fire Jack thought he could see a fuzzy silhouette. Then, the silhouette seemed to collapse, folding in on itself as Jack heard wheezing coughs from the other side. He had to get around.

Pressing his back flush against the soot-stained bricks, Jack shuffled along the wall in order to get around the blaze. Fingers of flame came dangerously close to caressing his exposed skin with their scorching touch. Jack flinched back and turned his head to the side, trying to take shallow breaths as his hands trailed along the brickwork. A gap in the fire appeared before Jack, blocked off with the torched chassis of what had once been a small hatchback.

Jack threw himself forward onto the bonnet which groaned tiredly beneath his weight, aluminium buckling in on itself. Jack could feel the boiling metal blistering his hands and clenched his teeth against the sudden shearing pain. He pushed his weight off the protesting bonnet and rolled on his back across the roof of the car before falling inelegantly off the other side, landing heavily on his side with an 'oof' as the air was forced out of his lungs. He gasped to take another breath and found himself choking against the smoke.

Still fighting for breath, Jack looked up and saw Ianto still lying on the floor, curled up in a shuddering ball. Jack scrabbled up and towards him as Ianto tried to push himself up on his elbows, despite his overwhelming coughing fit.

'Jack,' Ianto choked out as Jack grabbed him under the arms and hoisted him back onto his feet. He coughed again, peering blearily at his boss.

Jack frowned at him in concern. 'How're you doing?'

'Wonderful,' Ianto rasped. 'I feel like my brain has escaped without me.'

He coughed more and stumbled as Jack started to lead him in the direction he had just come. Getting back over the car may prove a problem. Jack paused and scanned Ianto up and down, feeling the pounding heat wash over them. He took in the sight of Ianto in a ripped and ruined shirt, covered in soot and dirt, his pale face smeared with ash and sticky with sweat. Jack noticed that Ianto was standing funny, so that most of his weight was on his right leg.

'What happened to your ankle?'

'I-I…' a frown of concentration. 'Fell. Sprained.' More coughing. 'Ow…'

Jack wrapped his right arm around Ianto's waist, throwing Ianto's own arm across his padded shoulders. The heavy RAF greatcoat was making the heat absolutely unbearable. Having taken most of Ianto's weight, Jack started to half drag the young man across the devastated car park. He spotted a different exit point for them to use and headed toward it as rapidly as he could, hindered in his task as Ianto started to slump into him.

'No no no,' Jack threw a quick sideways glance at Ianto, whose eyes seemed to be rolling back in his head. 'Ianto, stay with me here, or I'll have to carry you. Can you hear me?'

'Ungh…' was Ianto's only response as his legs stopped working and Jack almost fell over him.

'Come on, Ianto, you know you're too heavy for me to carry…'

They were almost at the gap in the wall Jack had climbed through, Jack still pulling a limp Ianto along. Jack looked sidelong down the crumbling pile of debris that had served as his way in. There was no way he would get an unconscious Ianto down there, especially without hurting him further- and Jack couldn't see any other exit options.

The fire lashed out angrily again as Jack tried vainly to shake Ianto awake, but his head simply lolled forwards, much as Gwen's had done. Tilting Ianto's head up gently, Jack pressed his chapped lips to Ianto's, trying to use the kiss to revive him. He could feel the dryness of Ianto's lips beneath his own. For a few seconds the younger man was unresponsive, and then he took a sudden gasping inhalation, culminating in another coughing fit. Jack gripped onto him tightly, turning his back to the flames to shield Ianto as he blinked in confusion, eyelids still heavy.

'I just need you to stay with me, even if it's just to get down there and you collapse at the bottom, although, I'd rather you didn't.'

Ianto nodded and Jack helped him unsteadily reverse down the makeshift rubble ramp, finally free of the flames, though the petrol-laden smoke still tainted the air in the dark stairwell. At the bottom, Jack flicked on his torch again, shining it on Ianto as he slid down the cool wall, head drooping again.

'S-sorry,' he coughed again, still looking down with his quiet words. 'Jack, can't… can't breathe.'

Once again, Jack pulled Ianto to his feet, effectively pinning him against the wall. The cool tiles were a strange agonising relief to his calloused hands. Ianto struggled to focus on Jack's face, barely two inches in front of his own. He offered a weak, shaky smile in Jack's direction as Jack cupped his chin and stared deep into his eyes, his expression unreadable. He smiled softly and suddenly pulled away again.

'Let's get out of here, there's an oxygen mask waiting with you name on it,' Jack said as he firmly grasped Ianto's wrist and started down the stairs. 'I'd like to get there before you collapse on me again; you'll only whinge if I carry you.'

Jack heard a faint reply that sounded like 'undignified' but it was lost in the hacking sounds of coughing. They hit the bottom floor and Ianto stumbled, the loss of his usual poise and posture made him look very young to Jack.

'Really breathing,' he gasped. '… Not good.'

And keeled over suddenly onto the tiles and crushed glass.

…*…

A/N: Thanks to those who have reviewed, it's really appreciated! Next chapter should be the last if all goes to plan and I'm hoping to get it up in the next few days.


	7. Chapter 7

Everything about Jack was cold. He could feel prickling goose bumps forming tiny skin mounds up and down his arms from where he had his pale green sleeves pulled up above his elbows. Even his face felt cold, and his fingers were particularly numb- he wasn't even sure if they were cold or hot anymore.

With a short sigh, Jack lent his head back against the chilled metal of the thick morgue drawers and shifted on the unforgiving tiles, his position sat on the hard ground up against the drawers probably not doing wonders for his posture. He stared up, glassy eyes like blue ice fixated high above on the tall ceiling. There would have to be drawers scraping that ceiling one day… Almost absent-mindedly, Jack relaxed the grip between his entwined fingers, letting them slide loosely down his stiff calves. He blinked slowly, tongue darting out to wet his dry lips before moving to speak.

Another few minutes passed before he actually did so, and when he did speak, it was addressed to the ceiling, rather than the morgue drawer pulled open beside him.

'I'm sorry.'

The softly spoken sentiment echoed around Jack, bouncing dully off each drawer, as if the person frozen within each had heard him and deflected his remorse back. Jack had known them all, every one of them enclosed forever in their cold-hearted final resting place. Jack knew for a fact that only one of them had been older than forty, and only a few had reached the wrong side of thirty-five; though that was considered a blessing in Torchwood.

Jack closed his eyes, head still tilted towards the skies somewhere far above him.

'I'm sorry,' he repeated.

It was with a strange sense of calm that Jack realised that those two words were probably the most used in his own personal dictionary. Jack was unsure whether he was reassured by the fact that he always truly meant it when he spoke them, though. He opened his eyes and stared blankly forward, at a disconcerting ease with the quiet and still of the morgue, sat amongst his filed and frozen colleagues with just his thoughts and memories. Guilt still swelled uncomfortably in Jack whenever he glanced at the drawer that now contained the petite frame of the _brilliant _Toshiko Sato. Had he ever told her just how brilliant he thought she was? Did he ever tell any of his team, his _wonderful_ team, just how amazing he thought each and every one of them was? And now it was too late…

Jack wet his lips again, speaking slowly.

'I know it's my fault, and I'll never forget that. If I had just… I could've been there for you, I _should _have been there for you, it's my duty as… But I wasn't. Not enough to save you. And I'm sorry.'

He shifted on the relentlessly hard ground and hung his head wearily. His heart thrummed steadily against his chest, a constant reminder as he sat amongst the collected dead that he, Jack, would outlive them all. He was a survivor and his heart would continue to beat where all other blood ceased to flow. Surely, _eventually_, his time would come too?

Jack lifted his head back up and pressed his palm against the icy steel of the open drawer beside him, spread his fingers out to leave a large handprint, outlined in spidery ivy-veins of ice.

'If I had known,' he started speaking again, the words tumbling out rapidly, 'If I had _known_, then maybe I could've done something. Or if I'd just been paying more attention, or you- but it wasn't your fault. None of _that _was and I can't blame you for my own mistakes and you… So young…' Jack smirked spitefully at himself. 'Almost means nothing to me now, everyone is _young _when I compare them to me, and all the stuff I've seen and done… You never got to see that stuff, all of those amazing and beautiful and horrifying things- no, you just saw the bad stuff, didn't you? My fault that… But I could have shown you some of the wonders that I've seen, prove to you that it's not all bad even though it can seem like it is… We never got the chance though did we? And now…'

His last sentence trailed off, left unfinished it hung heavy in the air, leading Jack to question exactly what it was he intended to say next. Maybe that was all he had to say and there was nothing else… The figure in the drawer certainly wasn't listening and could make no move to respond, whatever Jack said.

None of the reminders helped when everything always came back to the same point; a moot point. People died, Jack didn't. Was it right for him to cling on to what he did have, right now, right at this very moment?

With a small grunt of effort, Jack hauled himself to his feet, his right hand still curled around the edge of the glazed casket. Jack tried to avoid looking in at the face inside, the papery eyelids closed over hauntingly familiar eyes. He stood now, back resting against the drawers, just staring ahead of him at the entrance to the morgue. He should really leave, all this time spent loitering amongst the deceased… He closed his eyes another long moment. He could focus on his heart still pounding, _du-dum du-dum,_ lungs still taking in considered measures of oxygen, whistling lazily through his sinuses… Ironic that the only sounds down here were those that strived for the continuance of life above all.

Jack opened his eyes again.

'Ianto…'

…*…

A/N: So I might've lied, just a tiny bit as there will be one more chapter to follow this- I know it's short compared to the other chapters, but seemed like such a perfect place to stop!

Thanks to those who've taken the time to review!


	8. Chapter 8

_**Two Days Earlier…**_

_Jack wheeled Ianto's wheelchair into Gwen's room, the rubber squeaking slightly on the clinically clean floor of the hospital. Ianto had complained about being pushed around in a wheelchair like an invalid when he could perfectly well walk (okay, so he'd have to limp a little bit) the few metres from his private room to Gwen's. Not that Ianto didn't mind the slight role reversal between he and Jack, he just hated being treated like he was physically incapable… Jack parked the wheelchair beside Gwen's bed and took the uncomfortable plastic seat next to him. Rhys was sat across from them, one hand wrapped protectively around Gwen's. Gwen herself was propped up against the pillows, head held slightly stiff as she took in the sight of them. _

'_Oh, Ianto, am I glad to see you,' she smiled. And she genuinely was; upon returning to consciousness, Gwen had practically demanded that she be allowed to see her fellow team mate, desperate to see that he was alright. 'I thought that maybe you'd…'_

'_None of that talk please,' Jack said jovially, though the sincerity of the statement was clear to see in his eyes. He had thought the same about Ianto, and Gwen, that they'd gone and left him to cope on his own…_

'_I'm fine,' Ianto assured her, a just noticeable rasp in his voice due to smoke damage. 'Just got a bit out of breath. Smoker's lungs, me.'_

'_Not really something to be proud of,' Jack muttered. Ianto scowled at him, shifting uncomfortably in his itchy hospital gown. Why they insisted on making him wear one…_

'_Good to see you too, Gwen,' Ianto said softly. 'Not in the best condition though, but I guess it takes more than a couple of explosions to bring a good man down.'_

'_And even more to bring down a good woman,' she added. She shuffled against the pillows, wincing slightly at the slight flicker of pain the movement brought. Rhys was on his feet the moment her eyelids had shuttered slightly._

'_No, Rhys, no, I'm alright, stop making a fuss,' she said, bringing her other hand across her body and patting his reassuringly. He started to sit slowly back down. 'Honestly, you don't have to create such a big panic about everything.'_

'_Ungrateful, that's what you are,' he grinned warmly. 'All of this trouble I go to for you…'_

'_I'd already told you umpteen times, Rhys, that hospital coffee is disgusting, I specifically said not to bother getting it for me.'_

'_Ungrateful,' he repeated. He squeezed her hand, to show that he didn't mean it, though she already knew and did feel incredibly grateful for the man by her side._

_She turned to Jack, who had been watching the interaction with a faint smile on his face._

'_So, are you going to tell us then, Jack?' she asked. 'What happened?'_

'_All I've got out of him so far is that it wasn't John,' Ianto told her, glancing meaningfully at Jack. 'That leaves another option…'_

_Jack turned to Ianto, an expression of proud disbelief in his smile. He shook his head in apparent exasperation, his leg knocking gently against Ianto's._

'_Never miss a thing, do you, Ianto?'_

_Ianto quirked an eyebrow and said nothing. _

'_What?' Gwen started, looking between the two, a frown topping her features. Suddenly, comprehension dawned in her eyes. 'Jack… It- it wasn't Gray again, was it?'_

_Jack's face looked suddenly like it was set in cold stone. _

'_Yes.'_

'_I- but, how?'_

_Jack rubbed his thumb across the bridge of his nose, then his eyes met with Rhys'. Rhys, who already knew more about the incident than both Gwen and Ianto put together. Rhys nodded, a small inclination of his head to show he understood. Jack pursed his lips a second, then began to speak._

'_That's the beauty of time travel…' _

…*…

It was the footsteps, soft, with a noted limp, that had alerted Jack to the other man's presence. Ianto stood now, at the mouth of the morgue, hovering almost hesitantly as he regarded Jack with an unreadable look on his face. Jack simply stared back, palms pressed against the drawers behind him.

'You shouldn't be brooding down here,' Ianto said eventually, lilting Welsh tones floating through the unnaturally still air of the morgue. 'Especially by yourself.'

Ianto was wearing plain clothes, no suit today- just a simple pair of worn jeans and a zip-up hooded jacket. The only sign of the struggles three days previous were a few lightly glistening scrapes peppering the edge of his jaw line, like scarlet stubble.

'I thought you were supposed to be resting,' Jack stated, not having made any reaction to Ianto's previous words.

'I am,' he answered. 'I got pizza on the way over here, even went out of my way to go to Rocket Joe's.'

'The place with the square pizza?'

Ianto shrugged.

'It's cheaper.' It went unspoken that Jack's favourite pizza was that of the square variety.

The needless conversation hung awkwardly in the air between them. Ianto took another few uncertain steps forward, eyes fixed on Jack's.

'I, uh, I got the feeling you might be down here,' Ianto said. 'When you weren't upstairs or… It's not your fault, Jack.'

Jack's lips twisted into a wry grin. 'You can keep telling me that every time, but I'll always know that my brother is out to ruin my life all because I let go of his hand… And that _is _my fault.'

'Jack-,'

'No, don't start, Ianto,' Jack cut across him, with more force than he intended. 'You're not the one who has to live with this, this guilt, this… responsibility.'

Silence. And then-

'He's not your responsibility.'

Jack snorted bitterly. 'You're right. He _was _my responsibility and I failed him.'

He glanced down at the open drawer beside him, for the first time since he had slid it open- over an hour ago- looking onto the ice-tinged face of his younger brother. Jack felt like he should be angry, unimaginably so, and his heart started to race uncontrollably at the thought… Until he realised his own part in Gray's actions. None of this would have happened had he been there for his little brother when he needed Jack most.

'I'm no good for anyone, am I? They all just die in the end.' Jack said, still staring at Gray's emotionless features.

Ianto was hesitant in his reply, not quite sure how to address issues of death with an immortal man.

'Not this time.'

Jack looked up and straightened, taking his own weight instead of slumping hopelessly against the morgue drawers.

'This time?' he started, gesturing openly to the air around him. 'What about next time? And the time after that? Because I have no doubts about them, Ianto, Gray pretty much came out and told me that I can expect more. Sure, I have him held here in cold storage for the rest of eternity, but what about the future? My future, _his _past? That's something I can't fight and it scares me, Ianto, that just by being close to people I can bring death closer to them too.'

'So what're you going to do then, Jack?' It was a simple question, asked innocently enough. Ianto wasn't angry with Jack; he was only trying to understand. 'Cut yourself off? From everyone?'

Jack was slightly taken aback by the softly spoken question. He paused, hand gripping the freezing rail above Gray's head as he watched Ianto, who was stood with his hands stuffed in his jacket pockets.

'You- You can't possibly try to understand, Ianto… I get to live forever, with his shadow haunting me at every corner, never knowing when he's next going to appear, when he's next going to try and tear my life apart by killing the people I-I,' he stuttered slightly and his eyes flicked up to meet Ianto's, 'the people I _care _about… But do you know what the worst part is?' Jack continued, not expecting an answer. 'I can't bring myself to hate him. He's my little brother and he has already murdered two people who were so important to me, people I cared about even more than myself… He knows this, and he exploits it, and he hates me for the tiniest mistake. I'd do almost anything to go back and fix it, but I know that I can't. I can't undo the damage, I can just forgive him and hope that maybe one day he'll do the same for me… Because he's my brother… And he's the only family I have left.'

The tension was palpable, smothered in a blanket of silence. Even the dead in the drawers seemed spectator to Jack's confession.

'You have us, we're not going anywhere,' Ianto said eventually. Jack could see his fingers were curled into fists in his jacket pockets. 'Gwen and me,' he explained. 'I think you've even got Rhys tagging along for the ride now, but you're definitely not getting rid of us…' It was almost like Ianto needed to reinforce the message when he added: '_I'm_ not going anywhere.'

'I don't think I could get rid of you even if I wanted,' Jack smiled. 'You or Gwen.'

'In for a penny in for a pound, sir,' Ianto smirked back, trying to lighten the mood. Jack chuckled slightly, then pushed himself off the drawers.

With a sigh, he gripped the end of Gray's drawer, then lent over it and pressed a light kiss onto Gray's forehead.

'I don't think I could forgive you if any of them died,' he murmured, feeling the ice-coated strands of his brother's chestnut hair brush against his lips. 'But I'd make myself, because I don't want to hate you, because that's exactly what you want. And I refuse.'

Ianto, who had been unable to hear any of the words that Jack had just mumbled to his brother's sleeping form, watched as Jack finally closed Gray's drawer, the drawer rattling on its rails. Jack turned to face Ianto, then quickly covered the distance between them before enveloping Ianto in a hug.

'I thought I'd lost you,' he whispered against Ianto's ear. 'I went in there and I saw… I thought I'd just sent you both out on a routine mission, nothing you couldn't handle and you almost both _died_…' he squeezed Ianto and pulled away from him, hands still resting on the other man's shoulders. 'I need you and Gwen, and I really don't appreciate either of you frightening the life out of me.'

'Got to keep you on your toes,' Ianto said with a tight smile. 'Make sure we challenge you every now and again.'

'Yes, well, in future…'

'Don't say don't, Jack, not when you know that that's not possible.'

'No, just…' Jack wasn't quite sure what he was trying to say, so fell back on a reliable old suggestion. 'Pizza?'

'I thought you'd never ask.'

…*…

A/N: And so that, readers, is that! I really enjoyed writing all of this, particularly this last part (hope characterisation seems right, since we haven't really seen the characters properly since Exit Wounds…).

Sorry about the evil ending of previous chapter, but I just had to do it, and the response was great. Some of you though (coughbbmcowgirlcough) saw right through my plans… Hope those of you who thought it was Ianto in the drawer are somewhat relieved!

Anywho, thanks for the reviews and sticking with this story… Until next time…


End file.
